


Made In Heaven

by Jessiekins05



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Time, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-06-27 03:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19782790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessiekins05/pseuds/Jessiekins05
Summary: What really happened post night of the, almost Apocalypse.Exploring how they exactly swapped bodies and the feelings they both share for each other and beyond.Accompanied in part of course by QueenWhen stormy weather comes aroundIt was made in heavenWhen sunny skies break through behind the cloudsI wish it could last forever, yeahWish it could last forever, forever





	1. You Take My Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

> I have always wanted to write a Fic for longer than I can remember, I also have wanted to write absolute pure smut but never thought I had the confidence to either of these things. Watching Good Omens and the ineffable husbands, gave me the inspiration I needed. Iv had some gentle encouragement as well, so this is me biting the bullet. Its planned as three chapters at the moment but that could change depending on how I want to take the story. We will see, but for know lets jump right in, no holding back!  
> Each Chapter is linked to a Queen track with meaningful lyrics, as is the Main title, have a listen to them after if you feel like it.
> 
> You can reduce me to tears  
> With a single sigh  
> (Please don’t cry anymore)  
> Every breath that you take  
> Any sound that you make  
> Is a whisper in my ear  
> I could give up all my life for just one kiss  
> I would surely die  
> If you dismiss me from your love  
> You take my breath away

_‘You don’t have a side anymore, neither of us do. We’re on our own side’_ The words circled around in Aziraphale’s head as he sat on the bus seat. He couldn’t distract himself with passing views from the window, as it was pitch black. Instead he sat watching Crowley asleep in the seat in front of him. All this saving the world stuff had really worn the both of them out. All Aziraphale really wanted was to be in his bookshop, to make a nice cup of coco and perhaps, indulge in a bubble bath. Yet his little bookshop was, for the moment, still a husk of burnt ash.

Crowley had offered his apartment as a place to stay. Aziraphale had contemplated it before the old doubts of what his side might think, had crept in. There it was, those words Crowley had spoken, now once again spinning in his head. It was true, what was going to become of them now? Then there was Agnes’s last prophecy to consider. It might be wise of the Angel and Demon to discuss its meaning together. The thought was swaying Aziraphale more and more towards Crowley’s offer. It wasn’t until much later when the buss pulled up outside Crowley’s flat entrance, and the Demon, who got up to leave uttered, “Are you coming Angel?” Did Aziraphale make his decision. If truth be told, the Angel had made his mind up, sat on the bench back in Tadsfield and he shuffled stiffly down the aisle after his best friend.

Aziraphale hadn’t actually ever been inside Crowley’s flat. The Demon always seemed to be the one who sort him out or happen to be in the right place when the Angel was in a spot of bother. It was though, quite charming in its own way. Sleek, grey and black, echoing his best friend entirely.  
“Want a drink Angel?” Crowley chirped as he sauntered towards yet another secret door. The Angel didn’t answer right away, he was instead, preoccupied by the lush greenery in the next room. Crowley peaked back round the door when Aziraphale didn’t answer, “Az?”

Aziraphale wasn’t were he expected him to be. Taking two wine glasses and a bottle with him, Crowley closed the door with his foot and slowly moved across the floor. He watched from a distance as the Angel tenderly reached out and touched one of his plants.

A feeling pinged inside Crowley’s chest and it swelled. He had dreamt about this many times before but never thought it would actually happen. He stood silently admiring the Angel. You could say, that Crowley had fallen twice and if you were to ask him, he would say the second time was far worse. Some time around the time he had bumped into Aziraphale in Rome, it had begun. His interest sparked at the Angel uttering the word _temptation_ , be it about oysters but still.

It was true, that way back in the garden, when Crowley had slithered up next to the Aziraphale, he had half expected to be shunned for being who he was. That and perhaps the appearance of being a rather large snake. Yet Aziraphale remained unfazed by it all as he transformed beside him. Concerned instead for the two humans who had just left. Crowley had wanted so desperately at the time to talk to someone who was at least as intelligent as himself. He remembers that very first conversation as clear as day and thought it quite amusing that the Angel got flustered at the thought that they both, might, have ended up doing the opposite of what they were meant to have done. In truth, War holding Aziraphale's flaming sword, had been enough for Crowley to assume that in actual fact it may or may not have accelerated humans creation of war itself. He wouldn't however ever let the Angel know that.

A smile started pulling at Crowley’s lips as the memory of the first ever rain, flashed before him and Aziraphale had offered shelter under his wing. That most certainly was the moment Crowley knew he wanted Aziraphale as a friend. He had thought then that Aziraphale wasn’t all one side of the scales and he became more convinced in Rome. Crowley had also begun to suspect that they where cancelling each other out around the time of the round table.

When he found his Angel in knight’s armour, he had hoped to convince him as well. That perhaps if they took it in turns, both doing the good and tempting deeds, it would allow more time for other, more indulgent things. It didn’t exactly work out the way he had planned. Aziraphale stood strong but the Demon knew he had sewn the seeds of thought. He would have to be patient, not something Crowley was very good at, he was a Demon after all. Eventually Aziraphale had come around to the idea, it had also meant spending more time with each other rather then hundreds of years apart, something Crowley quite liked, it brought with it the chance to tease and joust with his friend on many occasions. That and the small fact that he was now one hundred percent certain Aziraphale didn’t tip all one way, even though the Angel choose to ignore it.

During all this, the Demon had become quite protective over the Angel and would check on him from time to time. Good thing to, as Aziraphale got himself into a spot of bother, on more than one occasion, Paris for instance. It wasn’t until that day in St James Park, when Aziraphale had reacted the way he did to Crowley’s request for insurance. That the Demon realised his feelings had changed. Of course, the Angel was his best friend but his reaction, the way his voice faulted at the thought Crowley might want to die and leave him, stirred something up. Obviously, the meeting ended in a disagreement and an exchange of words in the heat of the moment. It was his actions that spoke the loudest and the fact Aziraphale seemed to deeply care made Crowley realise that he actually had, quite deep feelings as well, that and the thought of not being needed by the Angel hurt like, well like hell.

Crowley wasn’t sure when he had fallen in love with his best friend exactly, but he knew he had. He also suspected Aziraphale liked him in that capacity as well, especially after the angel had fulfilled his request a hundred and five years later, in the seventies. It had taken them thousands of years to reach their agreement. It could take thousands more before Aziraphale came to the same conclusion Crowley had. ‘You go to fast for me Crowley’ and it was true, a Demons mind often raced far ahead of itself compared to the methodical thinking of an Angel. And so, Crowley was left with no option but to wait, this is what he would say was far worse than the falling or feasibly any torture.

“Admiring my plants, I see,” Crowley finally broke his perfect illusion and gestured to a drink by holding up the two glasses. “They are marvellous, I did at one time think the bookshop might be in need of a plant or two.” Aziraphale’s fingers lingered on one of the leaves before departing in exchange for a glass of wine. Seeing the gentle movement of the Angel's hand across one of his plants, gave Crowley a small shiver which in turn made his eyes flutter. He was glad he was still wearing his sunglasses, blocking them from view. Crowley miracled up an armchair for Aziraphale before leisurely lying across his throne.

“It’s not over for us, is it. I mean we still have punishment to come.” Crowley mused as he swirled the wine in his glass, thinking on the prospect of what hell might have in store. “Well if you put it that way, then perhaps it really will all be over. Who knows what they might do to us?” Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the thought of his own words. They both sat in silence for a little while, Crowley’s mind racing with a hundred different variables. Aziraphale’s on the other hand replayed little things in the lead up to this day. Realizing that if it all had ended and indeed might still, for them at least, how many things he had never done. Tiny regrets, things he should have had the confidence to say. Things he should have fought back on.

A little memory replayed in his head of Uriel, how the seemingly flippant comment of ‘your boyfriend in the dark glasses.’ Had at that moment, passed right through him. Aziraphale lifted his eyes across the room to Crowley’s form hanging from the chair. His forehead was creased and fingers tapping on the wine glass, seemingly in as much deep thought as Aziraphale had been. There was a regret and rather a big one. Aziraphale had never told his best friend how he really felt about him. How he had melted his heart over and over, saving him from the many tight spots. The biggest time had been in the second world war, when Aziraphale had been played for a sucker by Nazi double agents and handed over his most prized possessions. Crowley had walked across consummated ground to reach him and saved his book’s from being destroyed by the bomb.

Aziraphale smiled at the feeling he had felt in that moment, like his heart might explode from the love that was pulsing through his vessel’s veins. The Angel was sure Crowley might feel the same towards him, judging by his reaction of his disincorporated self, appearing before his seemingly broken friend. Feeling a surge of boldness and the fact that if he let this thought pass it would only be another regret. Aziraphale spoke up, “Crowley,” the Demon stopped swirling his glass and peered over. “Do you have any qualms,” the Demon raised an eyebrow above his sunglasses. “What I mean to say is, we have both been around for such a long time. Have you any regrets in the life we have lived?”

Crowley wiggled his nose and righted himself on his thrown. “This end of the world stuff has you in a deeper train of thought than normal Angel.” Aziraphale clutched his glass, he liked his pet name. Crowley pondered for a little while, pursing his lips before he leaned back into his throne. “A few I guess, how about you?” He batted the question back and took a swig of wine. Aziraphale hadn’t really thought of what to say next and in a spat of restlessness he rose from his chair and took a gulp from his glass. The demon knew when something was wrong and removed his sunglasses to show his concerned glace towards the Angel. Although this didn’t help Aziraphale, Crowley’s eyes had always been mesmerising in a strange way and for the moment made it slightly harder to express what he wanted to say.

Crowley waited, normally he would break up a tense moment like this with a quick-witted comment, but the air smelt different and his whole being screamed at him to stay silent, let the Angel find his words. Aziraphale took another gulp of his wine for dutch courage and looked to the ceiling for the words to form. “I have one and I don’t really want it to go unsaid if we, us, have to face another end.” Crowley felt his heart stop and his breath hitch in the back of this throat. The Angel tapped the empty glass with his fingers. “We have been friends for so long and I don’t want that to stop but,” The Demons teeth slightly chattered together as he listened and focused on the ever-growing speed of tapping on the glass. “I think, I feel more towards you and if I don’t say it, and then something happens to either of us then I shell always wonder if you ever felt the same. I don’t think I could stand it. All this has made me realize I should have said something sooner. It could have all ended today, we could have failed and …” The Angel was faltering with his words, emotions coming to the surface. “I have always been to apprehensive of what they would think. Its written that we are adversary’s, I can’t like you. Heaven’s, I’m not even meant to be friends with you, but I am.”

Aziraphale had let go and his emotions and pent up tension were now pouring from him like a tap. So much so he had not noticed Crowley rise from his throne and walk towards him. “You know, when I tried to tell them I could fix it, that we could stop the war, they didn’t want to know. I couldn’t believe it; they are meant to be good. Surely, I thought to myself, surely adverting something bad was doing something good. Instead they were being selfish. All this time I had forbade myself the one thing I knew, if I could have, would be ultimately selfish.” Tears were rolling down Aziraphale’s cheeks and he dropped his head when Crowley stood in front of him.

The Demon removed the empty glass from Aziraphale’s hand and placed his fingers under the Angels chin. “Look at me,” He encouraged, but Aziraphale feared if he did, he would crumble, so he squeezed his eyes tighter. “Angel, please,” Crowley coaxed. When Aziraphale did raise his head to look at Crowley the tears fell hot from his eyes. Crowley’s eyes scanned the Angel tenderly and placed his hands either side of his face. Moving his thumbs to wipe the trails of water. “Are you trying to tell me, that you are in love with me Angel?” The Demons words where soft not playful like they normally would be.

Aziraphale couldn’t form any more words and managed a nod. “Sweet dear Angel,” Crowley whispered, and the sound of his words broke Aziraphale into another fit of tears. “I’m sorry, you are probably going to tell me you are incapable of such things.” The Demon was still holding Aziraphale’s face in his hands and he leaned in to rest his forehead against his. “Quite the opposite actually, if anything it is you, my Aziraphale, my Angel that lets me feel such emotions.” Crowley pulled away and Aziraphale choked back a sob. “You have known from the first time we met, that I possess empathy. I didn’t fall because I wanted to be evil. I fell because I asked to many questions. I wasn’t filled with love anymore after I became a Demon. Yet you, single handily placed it back. Do you know how long I have waited to hear you say your feelings to me?”

Aziraphale shook his head and reached out to the hands that had left his face. Before he reached them, Crowley had stepped closer, a hairs width away from touching one another. Then the Demons lips where upon his, softly. Aziraphale’s body had tensed at first but after the shock subsided, he relaxed, and his eyes closed as they rolled. His hands reaching to hold on to Crowley, as he kissed him back. Crowley at this point had to restrain himself from pursing the matter further, he wanted nothing more then to make up, in his opinion, for lost time. He knew his Angel though and this was a huge step for him just admitting his feelings. Instead Crowley pulled away and began to plant gentle kisses in the wake of tears that had dampened his Angles face, muttering as he went, “I had to kiss you, if, I didn’t, that would be, my regret.” Aziraphale smiled placing a hand on the Demons chest pushing him away just a fraction, before reaching up on his tip toes to kiss Crowley’s neck several times.

This wasn’t helping the Demons restraint and he began to quiver under each one. “Just so we are clear then,” Aziraphale spoke between kisses, just as Crowley had done, “you are, in love, with me as well?” Crowley had a considerably harder time forming words while trying to keep his composure and they came out in a rasp. “I am Angel, I’ve loved you for a long, long time now and if you continue on your path of seduction, I may not be responsible for what comes next.” It was the Demons subtle warning that he wanted his Angel and if Aziraphale didn’t stop he might take him.

Aziraphale did stop and pulled back a little, “Oh,” he muttered, realising what Crowley had meant. In all of Aziraphale’s six thousand years he had only kissed a handful of people. Even then it was a peck as such. It never occurred to him Crowley may have done more. Crowley had moved to refill the wine, allowing distance between them and a chance for him to calm his inner desire. When he handed his Angel a freshly full glass, he was confronted by Aziraphale’s now questioning mind. “So, you have done this before?” Crowley’s face burned, he had in fact, once or twice dabbled in the human act of sex and the many things that came with it. 

He had become acquainted with the term lust very early on after his falling. He sometimes had more fun seducing innocent maidens then tempting them with other men. It wasn’t until the Roman era that Crowley found he desired the company of men more. It was far more open to experiment back then. It was around the time of Shakespeare and the height of his and Aziraphale’s friendship that Crowley had become board of it all. His attention instead turning to Aziraphale and their bond.

“I admit, I could be out of practice, but nothing I couldn’t do.” The Demon replied with a wicked grin. Aziraphale huffed slightly, he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He cursed himself, really, he should have known better than to think Crowley had stayed innocent all this time. “Come now, Angel, are you telling me you haven’t? How can you be sure of your feelings for me, if you have not at least pursued the idea of a sexual act with a human male. That is my vessel after all.” The Demon’s words where poking fun and it made Aziraphale pull in on himself a little more. 

In truth the very few kisses he had shared with humans, only one had been a female and It had stirred nothing within him. Their where however a couple of instances that had made Aziraphale feel something a little more. Mostly the urge to relieve a tension down below. Angels and Demons alike didn’t need the reproductive organs of a human, but when Aziraphale started to enjoy alcoholic beverages and food he realised quite quickly it was important. He didn’t though understand the sensations that came outside of that. He had, on one occasion and only once, experimented with himself. At the time he wasn’t much fussed by the outcome and choose to ignore it. Crowley on the other hand, as soon as drink was invented had dawned the tackle and indulged himself with the feelings it brought. He may have lost interest in sexual acts in the last few hundred years or so, but he had not stopped his self-pleasure.

Aziraphale counted on one hand the humans he had engaged with and held them up for Crowley to see. “I have osculated four humans, three of them where male.” The Demon had to bite his tongue as not to laugh and instead raised both his eyebrows as if he was shocked. “Please Az don’t ask me to count out how many people iv been with, I don’t have enough appenditches.” The Angel huffed again before a vail of sadness swept over him. “Of course, I should have known this is all fun and games for you.” The Demon became confused, “Hold on Angel.”  
“No Crowley, this is serious to me, I don’t want anyone else, but you by nature will always wonder what’s on the other side.” Crowley being a Demon, had the capacity to jump into intense emotions like a flick of a switch and Aziraphale’s words had catapulted him through shock, sadness and anger. He found himself pinning the angel in the armchair, “do you not think that I am serious? Oh yes! Just because I am a Demon, it mussst mean that’s how I operate twenty-four seven. Can’t keep my eyes off anything that movesss” Crowley had let his hiss slip, a sign he was seriously agitated. Aziraphale should have felt somewhat threatened by it but in actual fact it was doing something else.

Aziraphale felt a ping of shame and it flashed in his eyes, softening the Demon who picked up on it. Crowley relaxed his grip, “I haven’t been actively with anyone since I miracled Hamlet a success for you. Being with you was all I wanted, nothing else came close.” Crowley stood back up and walked away to reconnect with his wine, running a hand through his hair as he went. Crowley wanted the Angel to know that he was his Demon and no one else’s, forever. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Crowley’s middle as Aziraphale leaned into his back. They stayed in the embrace for quite a while, Crowley drawing an infinite figure of eight on the back of Aziraphale’s hand.

“What happens if it all ends for us tomorrow? If our respective sides take us away from each other. I just got you, I don’t want to lose you.” Crowley muttered, realising what was now at stake. Aziraphale loosened his hold and the emptiness the Demon now felt, hammered the fact home more. He wanted to clutch Aziraphale and never let him go.

The Angel walked the floor pulling Agnes’s last prophecy from his waistcoat and read it aloud in perfect old English. “When alle is fayed and all is done, ye must choofe your faces wisely, for soon enouff ye will be playing with fyre. I had thought that this meant other people around us, but now I’m not so sure.”  
“Does she mean in a literal sense?” Crowley chipped in. The Angel’s eyes widened, “Surely it can’t be that easy, but then again the telephone number was. How would we even go about it? I didn’t think it possible.” Aziraphale was pacing the floor up and down and Crowley watched his mutterings trying to follow along. “Az, what are you saying?” The Angel stopped, turning to face his Demon, “We should swap bodies!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“What?” Crowley replied dumbfounded, “Is that even possible?”  
“I’m not sure, but we could try?” Crowley shook his head; his Angel was so full of hope. “Ok hold on, even if we succeeded what’s to say we won’t be trapped in each other’s worlds. If my lot decided to pop me in one of the nine realms for a century or two. It wouldn’t be me would it, it would be you and you would have to endure that.” The Angel thought on it, “true, maybe you would come rescue me though?” A hint of flirtation was in his tone and Crowley licked his lips at it. He had rescued his Angel many times before but the thought of Aziraphale wanting to be rescued turned him on.

Crowley cleared his throat and the thought along with it. “I suppose it’s a risk either way and if we don’t try it, then the worst happened, it would all be over wouldn’t it.” Aziraphale clapped his hands and the Angel and the Demon spent the next few hours trying different ways to swap bodies. Crowley was becoming tired and bored of all the failed attempts. “What if we…” Aziraphale begin, “enough Angel, I’m tired.”  
“Crowley! We can’t just give up!” The Angel exclaimed in horror. “Nothing we are doing is working, the hours are slipping past us and really if it is our last time together, I would like to spend it in a nice way, wouldn’t you?” Crowley asked warily. The Demon had enjoyed the almost constant touching that had come with trying to find a solution to the body swap, but now he just wanted to hold his Angel until the sun rose and the end became near.

Aziraphale also admitted defeat and went quiet. “Was their something or somewhere you wanted to go Angel?” Crowley didn’t mind where they ended up as long as they spent it together, although it might have to be in walking distance, Crowley no longer had his Bentley. Aziraphale ponded, they could miracle themselves somewhere. He looked at his Demon who’s eyes where rather heavy and worry sat on his face. No, they had performed an extensive number of miracles in the last twenty-four hours and was sure they would run out of steam soon. Instead the Angel reached for Crowley’s hand and began to lead him out of the office. Crowley followed him until he realised they passed the front door. Walking deeper into his flat, Aziraphale wasn’t sure which room would be the right one, but he hoped he would find it on first guess.

He did, entering the Demons bedroom that held a four-poster bed and dawned silk sheets, black of course. Crowley smiled to himself having followed his Angel, watching him slow down near doors before continuing onward. He could feel sleep was calling him and to have his Angel by his side when he awoke would be the best end he could have hoped for. Sleep on the other hand was far from Aziraphale’s mind. Taking a few tiny breaths, he turned and reached to kiss Crowley, who in turn smiled that little bit more. Aziraphale manoeuvred Crowley’s hands so they slid down his waist and rested on his hips, before reaching with his own hands to slide through the back of the Demon’s red hair.

The sensation of Aziraphale kissing him harder than before woke Crowley up, his hands slid slightly lower under the Angel’s legs and hosted him up. Aziraphale wasn’t surprised instead he wrapped his legs around Crowley’s waist. The Demon walked the both of them to the edge of the bed, all the while his Angel continued to kiss him. Aziraphale felt the world turn as the cool of the silk touched his head. He had broken away, but Crowley was upon him within an instant, kissing up his neck and sucking on his bottom lip. The sensation made Aziraphale open his mouth, which was exactly what the Demon had wanted. He let his long tongue slide inside to allow for a deeper kiss. The Angel let a soft moan escape against him, and Crowley had to check himself not to push much further.

To his surprise Aziraphale’s hand moved, from caressing his back to sliding itself between the both of them. Crowley was hard, and his Angel felt for it through his clothes. Crowley steadied himself when Aziraphale found it, breaking from the embrace with the breath caught in his throat. “Angel,” he whispered, but before he could talk any more, Aziraphale was removing Crowley’s jacket, then his shirt, pausing to run his hands over his cheat. The Angel’s touch was warm and Crowley took a moment to lay one of his hands across Aziraphale’s. The tender moment made Aziraphale realise he didn’t want to be bundled up in his clothes anymore, with a slow movement of his free hand he miracled them away. Cowley looked at his Angel, how daring he was being, before leaning back to meet his lips.

The feeling of skin against skin had Aziraphale somersaulting, Crowley’s was ever so slightly cool at first, although it was beginning to warm the longer he stayed next to him. Crowley was losing the will to hold on, yet he didn’t want to insinuate anything the Angel didn’t want.

Propping himself on his side, he began to walk his long fingers down Aziraphale’s body, watching for any resistance. Crowley danced them over the Angel’s cock, and it twitched in response. Slowly he encompassed it, feeling the thickness in his hand. Aziraphale had his eyes closed and he took a deep breath at the feeling, a little moan passing his lips. Crowley smiled and began to move his hand up and down the Angels full length. Deliberately taking his time, watching the Angel grow more restless until his hips did a little buck. Crowley held out a tad longer, enjoying the little bit of torture he was providing before he began to speed up.

The swiftness of Crowley’s hand was exactly what Aziraphale had wanted and the pleasure subsided slightly, but not for long. A feeling was building deep within him the faster his Demon went, more audible whines began to surface louder than before. Aziraphale started to grip the sheets, the silk sliding between his fingers. Crowley watched, his mouth a jar at his Angel’s mounting pleasure, biting his lip every so often. He wanted to relieve him, to give him his first real taste of sensuality, but his own desire had been tolerantly waiting and it wouldn’t be as fun if he didn’t join in. “Ah, Crowley,” the Angel muttered, this was his cue to stop. Slowing he pulled away and reached for his bed side cabinet. Aziraphale blinked his eyes open, realising the sensation had stopped and all he was left with was an aching feeling. “Crowley you are cruel!” he panted. “Am I though?” the Demon responded without missing a beat, knowing full well the angel would thank him later.

He was now between the Angles legs, emptying a cold wet substance into his fingers. Aziraphale propped himself on his elbows to better see. “You must tell me immediately if anything hurts or is uncomfortable, ok?” Aziraphale nodded, wondering what Crowley meant. The Demon distracted his Angel with a few licks of his tongue against his tip. Aziraphale couldn’t keep himself propped up and sunk back, during which he felt Crowley do something else. A wet finger had slid inside him, moving slowly before another joined. The second one was tighter and Aziraphale wasn’t sure how to feel, he dared a peak. “You are surprisingly relaxed Angel,” Crowley’s eyes peered back at him, his pupils dilating at the thought of what was to come.

Aziraphale was a little slower on the up take but enjoyed the feeling of Crowley moving inside him. It admittedly wasn’t quite as strong as the pleasure he had received earlier but he was content none the less. Crowley knew this was necessary even if it might not be the most pleasurable part, he didn’t want to hurt his Angel, he did continue to tease Aziraphale and keep him on the edge throughout.

Finally, when Crowley felt Aziraphale was ready he stopped, he had taken a little longer trying to locate a point of interest but couldn’t seem to find it. Leaning across his Angel he began to slick up his own cock, “how much do you dessssire me Aziraphale?” his hiss escaping as his anticipation mounted. It made the Angel moan softly and Crowley searched for what he had done to produce the noise from his Angel. Aziraphale on the other hand had to touch himself. “Even more when you talk like that darling.” Crowley caught up and blushed at what Aziraphale had meant, he had always been self-conscious about his hiss and tried to hide it as much as possible.

Regaining himself Crowley asked again, “do you want me inside you Angel?” Aziraphale opened his eyes to look at his Demon, “were you not already?” His innocence made what Crowley wanted to do all the more sweeter. “No Az, not quite, I mean really insssside you,” and he kissed his neck. Aziraphale understood what he meant, and the thought captivated him as he reached for both of Crowley’s arms to brace himself. “Yes,”  
“Why don’t you say it to me?” Crowley teased, Aziraphale struggled to coax the words out and whined loudly instead. The Demon could of quite easily of taken that as his answer, but he wanted to hear his Angel say it back to him, his inner wicked self almost demanding it. He leaned to give Aziraphale an encouraging kiss, “Sssssay it,” this time allowing his hiss to be used as an advantage. Aziraphale was beginning to comprehend how empty he was feeling; Crowley hadn’t touched him for a few minutes now and his ache was growing painful.

“Crowley please, dear, I need to feel you, I need… I want you,” Aziraphale succumb and the Demon was all to happy to oblige, running his hands down the Angel’s chest to his hips as he righted himself. Crowley was the first to moan as he entered his Angel slow and steady, the feeling of Aziraphale surrounding him being more than he ever imagined. Aziraphale followed once he felt how full he was and an almost instant relief that flooded him from the touch. Crowley rotated his hips and began to move in and out gently. Each thrust made Aziraphale whimper, but he wanted more, Crowley wasn’t close enough to him. Unable to form anything more than pleasurable noises, he instead outstretched his hands openly, gesturing with all his fingers he needed him. 

Crowley began to lean back towards his Angel’s grasp, knowing the reason Aziraphale desired him to be so close, was the fact that past all the pleasure, he felt open and vulnerable. In this moment alone Crowley wanted to wrap him up, he instead let the Angel run his hands down his back as he planted the lightest of pecks on his Aziraphale’s nose. Being so close though made things a little tighter and he soothed his Angel until he began to quiver with each movement. Crowley had seemingly found the spot he had been looking for. 

Aziraphale’s pleasure began to build once more, it almost felt like they were one being. Crowley had responded to each tiny touch or groan Aziraphale had initiated, knowing almost immediately what he needed. He was however worried that he, himself, was not enough for his Demon. Crowley had felt him tense beneath him and stopped. Panting slightly, he asked, “Angel what’s wrong?”  
Aziraphale’s hand touched Crowley’s cheek, “am I pleasing you?” he asked simply. “What the devil made you ask that Aziraphale?”  
“My whole being feels like it is going to burst at any moment, I haven’t contained myself but that’s all I hear, just me.” Crowley began to move again to keep his sensation going, Aziraphale was becoming increasingly sensitive and the motion released a steady hum. “Crowley,” he uttered, “Normally my dear Angel, I would be raising hell with the sounds I producccce, but on this occasssion id rather like to hear you.” Crowley began to speed up, “I’m working on making you mine,”

  
“Ah ah,” Aziraphale’s breaths hitching closer together. “I am yours; I am yours,” the Angel chanted over and over to the rhythm they were creating. He wanted nothing more than to feel Crowley finish alongside himself. “Will you come for me Angel?” Crowely’s request came out darkly as he was chasing his own orgasm. Aziraphale gripped the sheets as he was at tipping point, he squirmed trying to find release.

Crowley reached for him and held his cock in his hand. “Let me be yours after this,”  
“What ever you do, please come inside me,” Aziraphale gasped. Crowley let out his first loud moan and he hissed at himself for allowing it, not expecting such words. Yet that was all that was needed to push the Angel over the edge, Aziraphale’s back arched as his orgasm ripped through him. Crowley felt him squeeze around him and he began to thrust a little harder riding his partners pleasure to achieve his own. “Oh god! Oh god, oh god, Crowley!” Aziraphale racked his fingers down the demons back. “Fuck Angel,” Crowley cried out. He hadn’t imagined in all his wildest dreams this would be the reaction Aziraphale had to climaxing. He hadn’t needed to work any harder, the Angel’s cries followed by the wild grasp of his fingers on his back had brought him tipping point too. He managed to catch a glimpse of Aziraphale’s face as the hot substance finally flowed from his Angel. He hadn’t realised he was still holding Aziraphale’s cock until the warmth filtered over his fingers and that’s when he felt himself shudder. Aziraphale was slowly coming down to watch as his Demon reach his peak. Crowley had gripped the sheets either side of Aziraphale, who reached up to brush a finger through his hair, “You are quite deliciously devilish, just like this,” Aziraphale uttered and Cowley screamed the word Fuck, long and hard as he came.


	2. Let Me Live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take a piece of my heart   
> Take a piece of my soul   
> Let me live  
> Why don't you take another little piece of my heart  
> Why don't you take it and break it  
> And tear it all apart  
> All I do is give  
> And all you do is take  
> Baby why don't you give me  
> A brand new start

Aziraphale was entranced as he lay in Crowley’s bed, watching the Demon’s chest rise and fall slowly as he slept. The silk sheets bundled the both of them together and the Angel was more then sure he could stay like this endlessly. He felt blissful, Crowley had taken the upmost care with him, nuzzling his neck as the Demon regained his composure from the quivering mess they both had been. It had taken some considerable time, but the Demon was nothing but loving, landing little strokes of his fingers down Aziraphale’s face and drawing silhouettes of wings across his shoulders. Finally, Crowley has succumbed to sleep, something Aziraphale didn’t really require but knew the Demon was fond of, as well as in need.

Here he was watching the Demon he loved with all his heart, sleep soundly next to him. Not a care in the world passed through them. That was until Azirphale remembered they had very little time left. Resting his chin in the curve of Crowley’s shoulder he began to feel the tears return. The Angel has experienced so many strong emotions during the course of one evening, he felt like he had endured the floods brought down by the almighty those many years ago. He wasn’t used to this and it was all thoroughly strenuous. He didn’t want to sob and wake his Demon from his slumber, but a tear escaped and betrayed him.

Crowley knew Aziraphale was crying before he was even fully awake. He could taste the slight salt in the air as his tongue parted his lips to sense his surroundings. His yellow eyes falling on the soft curls cushioned just below his chin. Silently he slithered the hand, that had been cradling Aziraphale before he had fallen asleep, up the Angels back. Feeling the curve of his spine through his soft skin.   
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Aziraphale whispered, wiping the culprit tear mark from his face. Crowley didn’t say anything, instead he continued to make slow soothing movements across the Angel’s vertebrae. 

Aziraphale moved himself slightly to see Crowley’s face better and reached out for his other hand. Crowley gave it to him willingly and the Angel laced his fingers through it. “You know, things feel different now. Like when you have read a wholesome book and it made you feel utterly transformed when you finished, compared to when you set out, you are no longer the same person as before.” The Demon gave a small chuckle, “That’s generally how you feel when something pleasing changes you Angel,” Crowley’s speech crackled slightly from his lack of using or perhaps overuse of his voice box.   
“Crowley, I’m being serious, I feel we are connected in so many more ways now. I want to try something.”   
“I didn’t think you would recover so quickly for a round two Aziraphale,” the Demon quipped. Aziraphale blushed and buried his face, “that’s not what I meant,” he muffled before returning for air. Aziraphale held Crowley’s hand a little tighter and the Demon responded with a few gentle thumb strokes across the Angel’s knuckles. “I felt so utterly one with you earlier, body and mind, that maybe we could try one last time?” Crowley couldn’t deny that he had felt the same, it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He gave a little nod to Aziraphale who moved up to great him with a kiss. “Close your eyes and just think about it, let’s not say anything,” Aziraphale lifted their joined hands closer, so it rested between their hearts.

Crowley had closed his eyes, shut off his ears and just felt for his Angel. Something he had learnt to do many years ago. The aura his Angel emitted was bright and warm, it swirled like the beams escaping the sun. They had always been there, much like the Angels wings, just not visible. Crowley had so often felt for them, even if he couldn’t touch it. Crowley frequently sort it out after a particularly dark or difficult time, knowing he couldn’t tell the Angel any of his demonic complications verbally. Yet somehow the soothing effect of his presence had helped relieve him.

Aziraphale had done the same, Crowley’s was sparse with fragments of lights, flickering near and far. Even though it was dark, a quiet hum and patter in the distance brought the feeling of safety, much like summer rain in the evening. Aziraphale had never imagined this emptiness could be so close and peaceful. They felt for each other’s heart beats, which almost aligned in sync. The need to hold on to each other became overwhelming, not in a physical sense. Crowley could feel the laps of light trace his inner core, his inner shadows parting and reaching back. It cast the silhouette of wings across Aziraphale’s light, while the Angel’s sunlit traces did the same through the darkness. Light and dark fragments began to knit together and both Angel and Demon felt each other take an audible deep breath, neither wanting the moment to end.

Aziraphale was the first to open his eyes, only to be looking at himself. “Crowley, he whispered, the Demon caressed his forehead before opening his eyes to look down. How could such a moment of bliss be replaced with the feeling of absurdity. His eyes darting, “this is beyond bizarre,” with that he bounced off the bed taking the silk sheets with him to find the nearest mirror, leaving his old vessle behind and in shock at the loss of heat. In front of the mirror Crowley could see the body he had made love to hours ago, he was now inhabiting once again. Aziraphale gave a shrill of excitement as he bounded to join him. Almost tripping over himself as he went. “Oh my, I must get used to your long legs Crowley, they hurt a tad to,” he remarked. Crowley smirked to himself, glancing at his actual vessel in the mirror before returning to look at the new one. He knew very well the ache was because he had been out of practice and was sure if Aziraphale hadn’t sprung out of the bed in such a manner he would have been just fine.

“You know, I had green eyes at one time,” Crowley remarked quietly to himself, leaning closer to the mirror inspecting the different shades of blues that swirled around his iris. Aziraphale stopped in his tracks and thought deeply about the remark. What had Crowley been like before he had fallen? With his fiery red locks, he would have had deep green eyes, much like the plants he owned, Aziraphale was sure of it. The thought provoked the Angel to do something else, more out of curiosity then anything, Azirphale released his wings. Of course, they were not really his but Crowley’s, the black feathers filling the room. It broke Crowley’s attention and he span around, “Az please be careful with my wings!” he squeaked realising his voice was not his either. Aziraphale felt a tiny twinge of pain upon the release of them. Something he never experienced with his own, they also felt dreadfully heavy in comparison and he had to roll his shoulders to adjust to the weight. 

“Does this mean I could change into a serpent now as well?” Crowley darted across the room to his own body, clutching it by the arms. “Aziraphale, listen to me. I trust you, trust you with my very being but please be careful. It isn’t all fun and games. If you transform you won’t know how to transform back.” Aziraphale had no idea how this body truly worked and really, he was only a visiting guest. He scolded himself for getting to carried away and his eye darts betrayed his emotion, “Ssssory,” he whispered before clasping his hand across his mouth, realising that his tongue worked differently then normal. “Oh no! how can I pretend to be you if I can’t sssspeak properly!” The Angel squawked in Crowley’s voice, which on its own sounded absurd, let alone the added hiss.

“Concentrate on forming the words not the sounds and you will be fine, you were doing well enough a moment ago,” the Demon spoke encouragingly. Aziraphale was listening, but was also still trying to grasp the movement of this new forked tongue. He kept sliding it through his lips but only enough, so the tip showed before he retracted it again. The Demon sighed, “Aziraphale! Bloody hell concentrate!” The Angel uncrossed his slit eyes and managed an un-hissed apology before he shot up in realisation that the Demon had blasphemed in his vessel. “Crowley! Don’t taint my vessel with such words.”

  
“To be fair Angel, I think your vessel was already slightly tainted and if you don’t think it was, then it was most certainly spoiled last night.” Crowley watched his own face drop open and eyes widen before he got up in his new vessel and tapped his Angel on the nose. Rolling his eyes Aziraphale gave in, “just remember I don’t talk like that at all Crowley.” The Demon was picking up Aziraphale’s clothes that had been miracled onto the floor last night, and began to dress himself. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs to practice,” he smirked buttoning up the shirt. “Is that so! Well at the moment you don’t really sound like me at all!” The Angel replied flustered at the Demons confidence to pull himself off and Crowley fastened the bow-tie neatly around his new vessels neck. Even though Crowley knew he was looking at himself when he walked over, he couldn’t help but tease the Angel. Leaning in as close as he could, he spoke clearly and concise, “My dear, darling Angel, I will pull off this little caper with exquisite fineness. You forget, I was an Angel once upon a time and that Iv known you for six thousand years.”

Aziraphale huffed but smiled, “quite,” straightening out the bowtie to the perfect degree.   
“I’m going to your bookshop, see if they have arrived their yet. You should stay here, Hustur normally prefers some electrical device so don’t be surprised if the Television comes on or something. Although I doubt, he would pre warn me,” Crowley waved the statement away.  
“What if neither of us hears anything?” The Angel responded before the Demon left the room. Crowley thought for a moment, “let’s meet in St James’s Park in say, three hours if no ones paid a visit by then.” Moments later Crowley in Aziraphale’s vessel, was readying to leave. Aziraphale so desperately wanted to chase him and peck him on the check, instead he called out as he watched Crowley slink away, “Remember I don’t strut as I walk dear.” Crowley sharpened his outline, strutting, Crowley would have to remember to show Aziraphale a real strut when this was over.

****

The bookshop was just as it had been days before the apocalypse. The Demon was standing inside, inspecting each and every little detail. He was all too familiar with what was in Aziraphale’s shop, even if the Angel didn’t think he paid attention. The Demon had spent a lot of time committing the bookshop to his memory, it was in fact, his mental escape. It was the very thing he dreamt the most about, when things got a little too much to handle. Another reason he has been so distraught when he had arrived to see it ablaze, he had wanted to save as many books as he could but what would have been the point if he couldn't return them to his Angel. Sliding his hands behind his back so they rested atop of one another, he rocked forward onto his toes ever so slightly and back down again. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a row of books above Aziraphale’s desk. Ones that hadn’t been there before, “Their new,” he remarked out loud, wondering what Aziraphale would make of the new added editions. The thought crossed his mind that if, in fact this had all been fixed, then their may be a small chance the Demon’s Bentley might have returned. The Demon tried not to smirk at the thought, he would instead keep up appearances.

He busied himself, double checking everything was in its correct place within the shop, if his Angel was to reopen as soon as possible it was best to check these things. Crowley then preformed a small miracle here and there to make the place feel cosy again. A few new candles, cupboards filled with tea and coco, things he knew his Angel would appreciate. The Demon’s mind whirled ahead of itself, speculating if the two of them would live together from now on. The Demon quite liked that and wondered if Aziraphale would let him bring his plants. With all these thoughts whirling he had let the time slip by. Instinctively the Demon raised his hand to look at his rather complex watch, remembering all to late that it was in fact on his actual vessel back in his flat. He instead felt around his waistcoat for Aziraphale’s pocket watch. Finding it the Demon brought it up closer and pressed the little button on the side to pop the casing. That was when the inside gold casing caught Crowley’s attention, tilting the watch slightly to get a better view. The little second hand ticked by, yet for the Demon it was as if time had stood still.

He traced the engravement on the inside of the gold pocket watch, a single feather and a name, _Crowley_. A hard lump had formed in the Demons throat, how long had that been there? It was impossible to tell, either way it had chipped another notch into Crowley’s heart as he reexamined the time and closed the pocket watch up. Replacing it in the waist coat and allowing himself for once to feel the tears of joy flood him, before heading out to St James’s Park. 

****

It was a dull kind of day, one where the lightest spots of rain would drench you if you stood out in it for too long. Not that this bothered the Angel as he walked through the park in Crowley’s vessel. Even though this was not the kind of day you would buy ice cream on, Aziraphale would still purpose the idea when he met up with his Demon. The Angel felt quite chipper about it all, strange really, knowing that at any moment things could quite easily be ripped apart. The Angel was practising his best Crowley walk, which had jogged a memory on his way over. He had on the odd occasion been to the cinema with Crowley, which was a favourite pass time of the Demon’s. He recalled one time seeing a motion picture in 1977, not that he particularly liked the film, even though the Demon had convinced him it wasn’t his usual go to either. He did, however, remember the Demon reenacting the strut down the street in such a manner that had Aziraphale in stitches. The Angel was now using all of this memory, the parts he could recall not laughing at at least, to put into his best Crowley walk.

The Angel was doing quite well, all be it until he saw his own vessel standing in their normal meeting spot. He almost lost himself, preparing to hop, skip and jump towards it, he also had wanted to share the cheery news about the Bentley, which had been parked outside the flat when he left. Instead he continued over and fought off the urge to tap his Demon on the shoulder when he arrived.

Slotting in next to his Demon, he realised just how hard it was to keep Crowley’s calm composure, especially as he really did fancy some of that ice cream over by the stand. Crowley on the other hand seemed to pull off an Aziraphale impression that had the Angel almost break poise. “I do rather fancy something sweet, perhaps I could persuade you to an ice cream?”   
Yeah, um, alright then, ill buy!” the last part of the sentence was far to over enthusiastic and the Demon knew that his Angel had been eyeing up the stand and would be glad of the excuse to eat one.

The Angel regained his self-control as he passed the ice cream vender some money, asking for a strawberry lollie and a vanilla with a flake in it. He felt the word, please, spill out of him and hoped he had said it in a hush enough voice no one would have noticed. Of course, his Demon knew, but Crowley was busy keeping watch, his Demon senses tingling that something was off. It had made him wear a rather sterner face then Aziraphale would have, even in moments of concern.

Crowley had to know about his Bentley and the question slipped out easily. “How’s the car?”  
“Not a scratch on it, how’s the bookshop?” The Angel asked in return, trying to picture the place burnt to a cinder. “Not a smudge, not a book burnt. Everything back just the way it was.” The Angel let a smile slip as his passed the ice cream to his own vessel, wishing he was the one eating it.   
“Have you heard from your people?” The Demon asked first. The Angel was bemused by the question then remembered the Demon was talking about his people, to which the Angel shook his head, “Yours?”   
“Nothing,” the Demon replied still looking around, his bad feeling was getting stronger.

The Angel had been thinking about all the things that had transpired yesterday on the walk in. He wasn’t sure if he comprehended everything in its entirety. The one thing he did understand though was last night. Wanting to share his thoughts as he so often did with Crowley, he let the convocation begin, they could be here for some time yet. “Do you understand what happened yesterday?”   
“Well I understand some of it,” The Demon responded before his mind picked up on the events of last night, how he and his Angel had finally come together. “But some of it,” he paused trying not to grin at the returning memory. “Well it’s a little bit too, well, ineffable.” Quite pleased with himself for using the word to describe his and the Angels relationship, weather Aziraphale would ever notice that, he wasn’t sure.”

A whirling noise not far from the sound of wind distracted the Angel and he looked over to see Death appear before him, uttering the same last word as his Demon had just used, or thought he had used at least. “Oh, that’s funny seeing him here,” dread now filling the Angel up. “That’s meant to be bad luck.” Stuttering he turned to ask his Demon if he had seen the same thing, only he wasn’t next to him.

Everything seemed to happen quite quickly after that. The Angel watched as his vessel with Crowley inside, bound and gagged, began to be dragged off by other angels. Although the Demon was wearing a semi convincing shocked face, it was really more of a don’t blow your cover look that he hoped his Angel would pick up on. He didn’t, forgetting himself, Aziraphale tossed his ice lollie aside in a frantic gesture while shouting, “stop them!” Sheer panic whirling inside him, propelling his legs forward into a run. How dare they take his love from within inches of him. An almighty clang rang out and the Angel felt Crowley’s vessel stumble beneath him. Mustering the energy, he leaned around to see what had happened, a dull thumping ache on the back of his head growing. He could see Hastur holding a crowbar and on his other side, two more demons. This was it, it was going to happen, punishment. The Angel managed to mutter to himself, “It’s no problem, its tickety-boo,” before feeling the cold damp pavement below.

****

The Demon flexed Aziraphale’s fingers, being bound to a chair was not uncommon for him. Uriel and Sandalphon stood across the room observantly, waiting for the judge to arrive. Crowley was using all of his composure to stay in character. While on the inside he was enraged, how dare they bound his beautiful Angel’s vessel with rope. If anything, only he should be allowed to do such things. The Demon could hear footsteps cross the marbled floor. It had been awhile since he had been in heaven’s head office and it seemed far more clinical then it used to be. “Ah Aziraphale!” Gabriel’s voice rang out, its tone providing an irritating edge that grated on the Demon. “So glad you could join us,” Gabriel’s attitude was patronising along with his touch as he squeezed the vessels shoulder. The things Crowley was envisioning right now would have made his Angel truly believe he belonged in hell, he was sure of it.

Was this how Gabriel always spoke to Aziraphale? Although he had to commend Gabriel on his choice of extraction. “You could have just sent a message. I mean a kidnapping, in broad daylight.”   
“Call it what it was, an extraordinary rendition,” Gabriel chuckled. The Demon pulled a sickening half smile, of course he would twist anything to make it sound better for himself, that’s how Gabriel worked. He hadn’t changed since Crowley fell, in fact, the Demon was certain Gabriel had used Crowley to gain a greater footing on the ladder. His own memories now knocking on his subconscious made the Demon wish he could break the bindings and rip that smug angels head off.

Crowley had never been one to do evil, like murder or similar acts. It had been one of the most frightening things he felt when first becoming a Demon. The urge was strong, and it was a battle to keep it at bay. When Aziraphale had begun Crowley’s long healing process of letting love back in, unbeknown to either of them, those dark thoughts had hushed and eventually disappeared. Yet today they had resurfaced and if Crowley had so desired, would have all the forces of hell behind them. It didn’t matter about his past, that was a long time ago, but Aziraphale mattered and no one, not even smug Gabriel would lay another finger on him, if he stepped out of line again.

The Demon continued to listen to Gabriel whittle on, “Now, have we heard from our new associate?”  
“He’s on his way,” Uriel responded, making Gabriel clutch his hands in delight. “He’s on his way, I think your going to like this.” Gabriel began to walk closer to Aziraphale’s vessel, “I really do, and I bet you didn’t see this one coming.” Gabriel now leaned in making the Demon respond with a oh really face before returning to his dark thoughts.

The Key difference here, in this exact moment, was that, if Crowley had, in fact acted on his desire to execute the angel Gabriel. He would have done it, but he wouldn’t have enjoyed it. He wouldn’t have savoured the pain he caused or danced in the blood of his victim. Yet the smile and exhilaration that protruded from Gabriel, at the very instant showed that he was going to love every last second of this punishment. 

Not too much later a lowly demon joined them in the room, commenting on the view and breaking all of Crowley’s thoughts. They all watched as the demon produced ash from his pocket and threw it into the pit. Huge flames erupted and reached almost as high as the ceiling. Hell’s fire, he hadn’t seen that in a while. This was going to be very, very pleasing to play out, if it worked. Crowley settled himself back into focus in Aziraphale’s vessel. “So, with one act of treason, you averted the war.”  
“Well I think the greater good would,” the Demon began to speak. “Don’t talk to me about the greater good sunshine, I’m the archangel fucking Gabriel.”

Inside the Demons head, he was thinking that one, Gabriel was displaying all the traits of pride, something Gabriel’s old friend Lucifer knew all to much about, and two, that he had just sworn, making Aziraphale ten times the Angel Gabriel would ever be. Still Gabriel whined on, “the greater good was, we were finally going to settle things, with the opposition once and for all.”

Uriel walked the floor to release Aziraphale’s vessel from its binds and commanding him to stand. The Demon was all to happy to oblige and rubbed his wrists to check no marks would be left from the rope. He then straightened himself out and adjusted his bow-tie, “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to reconsider?” The Demon thought it best to have one last stab at finding a resolution, he was sure his Angel would have done that, in fact he remembered just how upset he had been over the prospect of the angels not being good at all and it spurred him on. “We are meant to be the good guys for heavens sake,” the Demon raised his voice to get his point across as Aziraphale had last night. Although saying the word heaven without it sending a recoil through his body, was thanks to, in part his vessel and the force of his dark desires.

Gabriel was growing tired of the chatter, “Well, for heaven’s sake. We are to make examples of traitors. So into the flame” he urged. It was at this split-second Crowley felt the weight of the situation actually hit him. How they were going to burn the love of his life in Hell's fire. How excruciating it would feel if it was really Aziraphale standing here. Hell’s fire wasn’t like normal fire, it acted in ways beyond comprehension, it could burn forever, it could take its time dissolving its victim or choose to burst it into flames over and over again. The Demon really hopped that what he and his Angel where doing was the right one, that it worked.

“Right. Well lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.” Gabriel, impatient for the act to commence and annoyed Aziraphale was being his babbling self until the end, flipped slightly. “Shut your stupid mouth and die already.” The distain Crowley felt showed across his face before taking a moment to run a small prey through his head, this was it, now or never and he took a step into the flaming tornado.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I had a mixture of wondering how to get from A to B and then hardly any time to focus on writing due to my full time job, which made getting from A to B harder!   
> I also decided to add another chapter as this one felt like it came to a natural ending, and rather than trying to cram everything in I wanted to I allowed it to stop.   
> This ones more story driven, we need a bit of a breather before anymore fluff but their will be more! I hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoy writing it.  
> Thank you to everyone who has left me Kudos and comments, iv loved reading them all and its made me super happy.   
> So happy that I am in fact cooking up another GO fic at the moment. But lets see how this one goes first.


	3. My Life Has Been Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go  
> Tellin' lies  
> Here we go - here we go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to pop in here that I don't have a Bata reader, super sorry for any mistakes! I know a few people have picked up on them in the past.

Hell’s office was every bit as dank and decaying as the Angel had expected, yet he continued to saunter down the hallway as he heard Beelzebub’s high-pitched voice vibrating off the walls. “Traitor!” In any other situation the Angel may have felt panicked, he sure would have if it had been Gabriel saying those words to his actual form, but he wasn’t. Instead he actually felt, cold, uncaring and oddly relaxed, making his striding walk all that more convincing.

In the Angel’s head, he had a task to do and had set his mind to it, neither Heaven nor indeed Hell for that matter, was going to make him stray from his goal. Crowley’s vessel was being flanked by two lesser demons and once they arrived in the room, the normal foul stench that emanated from a demon, in general seemed to get even more potent. The Angel’s mind wondered for only a moment, a passing comment flashing before him. His Demon never smelt anything like normal demons did, in fact Crowley’s scent reminded him of summer storms and the crisp scent of a particular fruit. It was comforting, reminding him of a time long ago and a certain garden. The smell being combined in this room though, was far from pleasant and the Angel had a hard time trying not to scrunch up his nose in protest to the invading odour. 

With Crowley’s vessel now standing in front of his commanding officials, the Angel felt a surge of confidence rise with in him, calling on all of his observation of Crowley over the years. “Hi guys, nice place you got here,”   
“Not for you, it won’t be” Hasturs tone was filled with nothing but unsavoury disdain. The Angel recalled his Demon, liked to talk a lot in most situations that made him uncomfortable or uneasy, he was very rarely without words and opened his mouth to continue. “Could do with some house plants, maybe a coffee table?”   
“Silence!” Beelzebub commanded the room, again in another other situation, the Angel may have let a shiver of fear run up his spine that would have him stand as rigid as a pole. Yet he remained unfazed by it all, he reminded himself that truly, as an Angel he would be smiting each and every one of them if he was anywhere else other than in the pits.

While the escalator had been chugging its way down to this level, the Angel had thought that if this indeed, all went wrong, that he could perhaps, fight his way out, find Crowley and they could escape together. Although the shock of a demon being smited by another would make for entertainment, and what the Angel would give for the excuse, he was here as Crowley first and foremost and to that he pushed the little dark though out of his mind.

“The prisoner shell approach,”   
“Love to,” the Angel replied in a manner he scolded himself was much to soft, opting for a quick-witted remark to cover his tracks. “So, four of us. Rubber of bridge? Barbershop quartet?”  
“The trial of a traitor,” Beelzebub mused from the chair.   
“Lord Beelzbub, you are….?” It wasn’t the fact the Angel didn’t know; it was he caught himself wondering if Crowley would have put the lord before his name? Had it been to formal?   
“I’m the judge,” Beelzbub leaned forward, an unamused expression on his face. The Angel rolled Crowley’s head back in a mocking gesture, no one had noticed. Hastur chimed in eagerly from the side, “I’m the prosecutor.” Licking his lips, the Angel turned to Dagon, raising an eyebrow, like he has seen his Demon do thousands of times.   
“And Dagon here is going to be defending me?” Beelzbub let out a sigh of annoyance rolling his eyes while Dagon explained that matter of factually, it was quite the opposite.

The Angel nodded along before Beelzbub sat forward, wanting to usher the whole ordeal along more quickly. Like this was a chore he would rather do without today. “We built this place especially for you, it will be your place of trial and it will be your place of destruction.”   
“Guy’s you shouldn’t have gone to all the trouble. What appears to be the problem?” As if this was an invitation, Hastur pipped up and began to recount the acts he saw fit to dam the Demon, if such a thing could happen twice.

The Angel stood firm and listened unamused at the accounts laid before Crowley’s vessel. Beelzbub eventually, after finding all the information a bit lacklustre, sat forward, “creatures of hell, you have heard the evidence against the demon, known as Crowley. What is your verdict?” The Angel realised for the first time that, the so-called jury were behind him and he turned to see a plane of glass separating them from the room. “Guilty! Guilty!” they started chanting, banging their fists on the window plane. _How crude_ , thought the Angel, raising an eyebrow. _Such is a demon to take pleasure in the destruction of another being, weather it was, human, angel or demon alike._ Somewhere in the back of Aziraphale’s mind, the same place that tiny dark thought has manifested itself, it tagged on, _what’s to say upstairs isn’t also taking delight in a destruction of another?_ He couldn’t let his mind wonder, worrying about what was happening to Crowley. The Angel had to remain focused, he had to have, faith, faith that this was the right thing and it would work. True enough the Angel has been pushed to the edge. Countless times he had hoped that faith would prevail and yet it hadn’t. He was on the brink, the last few strands left, with the feeling of them slipping from his grasp. The only stand that looked unwavering was different from the rest. Gold and red threads intertwining with each other. Some how having faith that even if the last strands slipped, this one would hold him, stop him from falling from the edge, it was easier to try and keep hold of the others.

This was it, punishment, destruction, the end. “What is it to be? Eternity in the darkest pit?” Thinking back to his and the Demon’s convocation earlier that morning. The Angel hadn’t recalled saying his thought out loud, but Hasturs response confirmed he had. “No, we are going to do something even worse. Letting the punishment fit the crime.”

The Angel’s mind couldn’t quite fathom what else they could have in store. Until a familiar feeling rose from within him. A sense of blinding light, why on earth would that be here, of all places. No one would be able to produce that feeling this far down in hell. Yet the feeling grew and stretched, getting ever closer. For the first time in this whole ordeal, Aziraphale felt a ping of terror and he turned slowly on the spot, to face where the feeling was coming from. Michael, what was she doing here? That would explain the feeling of bright light at least. The Angel’s mind still hadn’t caught up, in shock at seeing one of his own down here. “The Archangel Michael? That’s unlikely.”

True enough, out of all the odds, this would have been the least likely to happen. So much had happened between the two sides and although angels were capable of mercy, or at least Azirphale had thought, perhaps some more then others, it still seemed inconsolable. Hastur’s voice broke through the Angel’s thoughts, “Well wank-wings, have you brought the stuff?” _Ah, still not on best terms then_ , Aziraphale smugly assumed. Michael was unmoved by Hastur’s passing remark, “I did, I’ll be back to collect it.”

Aziraphale stood, shook to his core in Crowley’s vessel at the sight of what was in Michael’s jug. He watched her pour it into the bath, which he had conveniently ignored when he first walked in, thinking it was part of the decor. It wouldn’t have surprised him, although it was evident demons didn’t bathe, that the bath was some kind of ironic joke. The water continued to flow, seemingly never ending from the jug, the miracle of holy water. It made the demonic jury snarl and quake from behind the glass. Hastur squirmed, recalling the way his fellow demon had melted into a puddled mess. Beelzebub on the hand, still, looked unimpressed, rolling his eyes at the spectacle and wishing it would go faster. Finally, the jug seemed to empty itself and Aziraphale managed to hide a shudder of fury that resonated from his chest, “that’s Holy water” he breathed. “The Holiest, yes.” Michael answered as if it had been a question rather than a statement, drilling the fact further into the Aziraphale’s mind.

Aziraphale’s irritation had doubled by that point, it could, have been depicted as a slight rage, but that would tip his internal scales and he was above that, above them. Still the disgust was painted over Crowley’s face like a renaissance painting. Disgust as it so happens, down in hell, seemed like a reasonable reaction. Beelzebub perked up a little, “Not that we don’t trust you Michael, but we don’t. Hastur test it.” The Angel swept his head back and forth wondering how on earth they were going to test it. He had heard of what Holy water could do to a demon, but he had never actually seen fit to watch its effects on them, although he had been invited many time before he constant declining had him removed from the invite list. The test subject was the unfortunate Usher. Michael took this as a cue to leave, wearing a smug grin as she glides back up the hallway she came from, lights flickering on and off as she passed under them.

Hustur had picked the little beast up and slide him over the side of the tub. The water began to bubble and billow steam, upon the creatures contact with it. Ripping apart both flesh and bone, while setting what ever existence of a soul demon’s might have, on fire. It was quick and Aziraphale could only think that although the pain must be beyond measure it was at least, merciful. The Angel tried not to let his expression show but thinking of how this could have been Crowley, made him sick. His stomach swirling like a whirlpool, how he had spent so many years not touching Crowley. Afraid, to think if last night had never happened, if he hadn’t touched him at all, felt how smooth his skin was, how his touch left tiny explosions across his skin. How could they think to do this? Aziraphale was so consumed by this thought he wasn’t particularly paying attention to his sentencing; which Beelzebub was bestowing. Only hearing the part of ‘any last words’ seemed to tear his eyes from the bathtub back round to face the dukes of hell. It was here in this moment Aziraphale let a tiny part of him, the part he had always scorned, surface.

How he was going to enjoy what came next, taking a deep breath he responded. “Well yes, urm, this is a new jacket and id hate for it to get ruined. Do you mind if I take it off?” With that the Angel removed his glasses and let a devilish half smile creep over him as his slit eyes seem to send a challenge across the room. Removing his jacket and trousers, it left Crowley’s vessel in nothing more then a tightly fitted vest, boxer shorts and socks, all black of course.

Once Aziraphale reached the tub, he readied himself on the edge to lower himself in. He had every bit of faith that this was going to work, pulling back on the cords in his mind as he stepped in and settled. The water lapped over him in a cooling fashion. It was lukewarm and in need of some good bubble bath.

As Aziraphale lay there in Crowley’s vessel he began to play with the water. Audible gasps of shock came from behind the glass, the Dukes stood with mouths ajar and Aziraphale began to flick water at the window. It made a satisfying hissing sound as it tried and failed to reach it target. Feeling extremely smug with himself he began to let his wicked mind speak for him. “I don’t suppose that anywhere in the nine circles of Hell, there is such a thing as a rubber duck? No?” he paused lifting his head up to address the Dukes.

With no response Aziraphale continued to toy with the water, growing ever bolder, he felt, dare he even think it, unstoppable. Dagon was hiding behind Beelzebub who muttered something about going native and that he wasn’t one of them anymore. A smug smile crawled across his lips as Aziraphale continued to splatter water up the glass, each time throwing it a little bit harder, part of him wishing holy water had the power to move through it. Crowley had been right, they were on their own side, always had been and now they always would be. The Angel was going to make that undeniably clear, turning in the bath to face the Dukes, leaning in on the bath tubs sides as Crowley-like as possible, which in truth was far more sexual then the Demon would have ever presented himself. In Aziraphale’s mind though, he could quite imagine seeing him like this. “So you’re probably thinking, if he can do this, I wonder what else he can do?” the tempting dark thoughts resurfaced in the Aziraphale’s conscious. He could, make them all pay, make examples of them. There wouldn’t be any surprise now if he was to kill one of them. Rid the world of the existence of a handful of demons, dukes no less. All it would take was a splash here and there and a smite for good measure. Although the thoughts had surfaced as purely selfish ones at first, his ration thought process egged him on. It would be part of the greater good. “Well very, very soon you are all going to get the chance to find out,” the malice leaking in his voice.

“He’s bluffing! We can take him, one demon against the rest of hell,” Hastur stepped forward, seemingly the only challenger. The Angel wanted him to continue, willing him to walk right over to him so he could get the chance to prove to them all. Beeelzbub’s demeanour had changed from shocked to panicked. It had worked the fact had been driven home and he ordered everyone away in fear of a riot. The Angel threw a few more splats of water at the glass just for effect when the same feeling of bright light began to reappear. Michael entered, seemingly to collect the water, stopping when the sight of Crowley in the bathtub was unscathed. “Oh, Lord,”   
“Michael, dude! Do us a quick miracle, I need a bath towel” Aziraphale, although moments ago was ready to cause great pain to the demons around him, was now ready to depart from this room. His angelic nature resurfacing and clearing his mind.

Michel didn’t think twice about the miracle, in utter shock, and handed Crowley the towel. Time to put a full stop in this. “I think it would be better for everyone, if I were to be left alone in future. Don’t you.” When no one responded immediately, Aziraphale gave a slow encouraging nod. Which each Duke in turn responded in agreement. Turning to Michael as well as so she could relay the message to above upon her return. “Right” Aziraphale said wrinkling his nose in glee at the feeling of completing his task. He only hoped that Crowley had had the same result upstairs.

****

The warmth of Hell’s fire engulfed Aziraphale’s vessel, the Demon breathed it in. it had been a while since he felt it. In his early days, popping into a flame of Hell fire was a good way to recharge, that was before he had found the act of sleeping did the same thing, meaning less frequent trips to down below. As if the fire recognized him, it seeped into his muscles, surrounding him and working out all the little kinks he had acquired over the years. The Demon reacted to it, his eyes closed feeling the power surge through him and suppress his aches. He let it creep up his neck, moving it side to side and letting out the sound of cracks and a pleasured moan.

Opening his eye’s he couldn’t help but wickedly smile at the stunned faces of Uriel, Sandalphon and Gabriel, who looked between each other in confusion. Wasn’t this the part where the Angel was meant to die? The fire empower Crowley and he leant forward slightly, hearing the fires cries, how dare angels use it as a weapon of their own choosing. Crowley wondered if the fire was this worked up about being used incorrectly that it might have spared his Angel. If the fire, indeed had that feeling it wasn’t giving anything away. _‘Come now my serpent, use me correctly, let me reach for them,’_ it hummed. The Demon indulged it, wanting to at least, in part, scare these Arch angles stupid. Releasing his pent-up anger from before in a roar of sorts, the fire found its release, hurtling towards the trio who stumbled back as fast as they could in shock. “This is could be worse than we thought.” The fire cooed at the Demon to try again but Crowley had had his fun, stepping out brushing himself down. “Right my dear fellow’s, perhaps we should call this proceeding to and end and we can carry out our day. I have much work to do and I’d quite like to get on with it in peace, if you get my meaning.” The Demon mustered the best over acted wink he could before turning to find the exit. He wasn’t going to wait for a response, he didn’t need their approval, correction, Aziraphale didn’t need their approval anymore and that was how it was going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two months did not feel like a long time to me and it rushed by exceedingly fast. I rewrote this dam chapter four times. I couldn't seem to get it work how i wanted. Most likely because its a continuation of a plot point and not much deviation. Having felt the last Chapter ended in a natural way and choosing to make this one on its own, might of had something to do with it. I didn't want to over do the last chapter yet this one then felt a struggle. Trying to keep it to the same writing formula caged it in. 
> 
> Anyway its here now and I'm finally happy with it. Thank you all for being so patient! The next chapter is already underway but do expect a week or so wait. I work in Television and the hours are long at times so its random when i get to work on this properly other than scribbling in my note books. The Next one will see the return of some fluff and maybe a cheeky something else ;) got to end on a high right!

**Author's Note:**

> We may all need to go grab a cold glass of water after that eh?  
> I hope you all liked it! Let me know what you think and more to come soon.


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